


If it’s Cool With You

by Beewachan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, It’s only rated teen bc of like two curses lol, M/M, Mutual Pining, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beewachan/pseuds/Beewachan
Summary: Atsumu realizes he may or may not be in love with his best friend. It makes his life hard sometimes.





	If it’s Cool With You

They’ve been best friends for two and a half years; Atsumu had realized this. Keiji is gorgeous, and Atsumu is attracted to him on a subconscious level; Atsumu had realized this as well (he learned so through an ill-timed wet dream). 

However, it isn’t until Keiji is resting his head on Atsumu’s shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist while they sit on Atsumu’s bed that Atsumu realizes he is attracted to Akaashi Keiji on a far more than subconscious level. He is conscious now, well-aware of Keiji’s breath tickling his neck. 

“Anyway, that’s all. How did your exam go?”

“It sucked.” Atsumu stops himself from asking how Keiji’s went because he assumes that’s what Keiji’s talking about when he zones out, searching for each lighter blue spec in Keiji’s eyes. 

“Want to watch a movie for my film theory class with me?” 

Atsumu wants so badly to say no. Maybe even push Keiji off of him and run out of the building, all the way across campus, mowing down every obstacle standing in the way of distance from Keiji. 

“Yeah, of course,” Atsumu says, and Keiji briefly takes his arm away from Atsumu’s waist. He can breathe again as Keiji slides his laptop out of his bag and in front of them, pressing the keys until the opening credits roll. 

Atsumu finds Keiji’s arm coiled around his waist again. He does _not_ recall side hugging as being part of the best friendship contract. Or is this cuddling? Whatever it is, it’s foreign to Atsumu, and he’s overwhelmed.

“I tried to watch it last night, but I fell asleep.”

“Should you be watching it on a bed then?” Atsumu only asks questions he knows the answers to. It’s the first rule of any pre-law major. 

“Probably not,” Keiji leans in closer, “but you’re very comfortable.” Atsumu is not comfortable at all, but he imagines Keiji means he is in the way that one would call a couch comfortable. 

Oh, god, Atsumu feels his palms already slickening with sweat when he curls his fingers. Keiji radiates warmth as he rests his head across Atsumu’s shoulders. 

Atsumu doesn’t pay attention to the film, choosing to count to 10,000 instead. It distracts him well. Except for whenever Keiji whispers something in his ear. Then he loses count (and cool) and has to start again. The whispers come and go intermittently, catching Atsumu off guard each time. He even jumps up at one of them, his shoulder awkwardly bumping into Keiji’s moving jaw. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry.” Atsumu can’t find the courage to look Keiji in the eyes. 

“Ooh, not _just_ sorry, but ‘so sorry,’” Keiji deadpans. “How unlike you it is to apologize, but all is well.” In the blink of the eye, just like that, Keiji returns to his resting position, chin perched on Atsumu’s broad shoulder, curly black hair brushing against Atsumu’s neck. 

Atsumu glares at him. Yes, he glares; he is envious, after all. Keiji is fantastically calm while Atsumu’s brain has an out of order sign taped to it, and Keiji’s ability to remain collected, Atsumu is jealous of. Fuck him. 

Of course, they’re watching a horror film, so Keiji hugs Atsumu just a little tighter and curls his fingers around Atsumu’s sweatshirt every few scenes. Is this even for film theory? Atsumu doesn’t care. He’ll just have to deal with it. 

 

_______

 

It’s three in the morning, and the stars are out. The radio music fills the car like white noise. 

It’s three o’ two when Atsumu dares spare a glance at Keiji; the dashboard had lost his interest. 

“I actually hate you.” This draws Keiji’s attention away from the stars ahead. 

“Are you dissatisfied with my choice of music?” He asks flatly.

“I wasn’t listening to it,” Atsumu says, and he’s trying so hard not to smack himself for telling the truth when a little white lie would’ve been a better substitute. 

“Then what's wrong?” 

“It’s too early for this shit,” Atsumu tries to lie, and it doesn’t sound too sincere.

“You’re the one who wanted to go out with Terushima-kun?”

Now would be a fitting time to smash his own head against the dashboard and disappear, Atsumu concludes. “I thought we’d only be out ‘til, like, one.”

“Atsumu, when it was one and he said, ‘Let’s totally go to the beach, dudes!’” Keiji mimics Yuuji’s voice, “you said, ‘Hell yeah!’” Keiji has no problem looking into Atsumu’s eyes as he speaks. 

“Keiji, this is why I hate you,” Atsumu says, and it’s only half of the truth. He faces forward and buries his face in his hands with a sigh. 

Keiji shrugs. “You hate me less than you hate everyone else.”

“Fuck, you’re right.” His voice seems to get higher-pitched as he finishes, dragging his hands down his face, inadvertently combing his eyebrows in an odd series of downward spikes. 

Because Keiji is Keiji, and he doesn’t know when to stop, or rather, he doesn’t care when _Atsumu_ wants him to stop, he’s still staring straight at Atsumu, and he takes the liberty to extend his arm and smooth his fingers across Atsumu’s eyebrows, fixing them back into place. 

“Keiji, you’re the worst.”

“I wasn’t aware that today was Opposite Day.” 

“Shut up,” Atsumu drags his words out, and when he’s looking into Keiji’s eyes so close, Atsumu is sure he’s going to die because his heart is beating too fast for this to be any good. 

Surprisingly, Keiji does shut up per Atsumu’s request. However, he also lowers his fingers from the ends of Atsumu’s eyebrows to his cheeks and pulls them upward, giving Atsumu an odd, crooked smile.

Yuuji knocks on the windshield. 

Keiji gives Atsumu’s left cheek a playful tug before starting the car. 

 

_______

 

Today, they’re sitting outside in the campus garden. Well, Atsumu is sitting; Keiji is lying on him, his head on one of Atsumu’s wonderfully mountain-like thighs. 

If anyone should find it hard to breathe right now, it’s Keiji. He’s being blessed with close proximity to Atsumu’s jewels. But you know who’s breathing easy? Keiji. You know who’s thanking the lord for every inhale and exhale he manages? Atsumu. 

“I want a puppy,” Keiji announces. “My sister just adopted a dachshund, and he’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You should help me steal him.” 

“Yep.” Atsumu is only half-listening, if even. His brain doesn’t seem to be working.

“Never mind, she’d be sad if we took him.” 

“Keiji.” 

“Atsumu.”

“Head. Crotch. Too close.” Atsumu couldn’t form a proper sentence, so he made three — kind of. 

Keiji doesn’t move immediately. He simply looks up at Atsumu, eyes deceivingly wide and innocent, when he says, “but you’re very comfortable.” 

“Please, Keiji, you’re killing me right here!” Atsumu points to his heart as he leans back against the grass, so he doesn’t have to look Keiji in the eyes anymore. 

Keiji stays put. What’s new? Atsumu thinks that maybe he should start avoiding Keiji before he says something stupid, like, “I think I like you,” or “You’re really pretty and smart and nice (not always to me, but whatever) and I wanna adopt twenty-seven dogs with you,” but he realizes that would be difficult because they’re roommates. And best friends, they’re best friends, too. 

Finally, Keiji sits upright and turns to face his best friend. “Atsumu, I have something to tell you.” 

“Okay.” Atsumu bites his lip, trying his hardest not to tell Keiji, “Don’t speak! I get it, you’ve gotten that I have a massive crush on you, and you’ll hate my guts eternally! You don’t have to say it out loud!” He can tell that Keiji’s nervous because he’s fiddling with his fingers, and he hasn’t spoken yet.

“I've been thinking a lot,” Keiji only looks into Atsumu’s eyes for a split second before lowering back to his own hands. 

“You always think a lot.” Atsumu recalls their conversation the previous night about Keiji’s thoughts on quesadillas and heart-shaped alien heads. He thinks far too much.

“About something important this time.”

“Go on,” Atsumu nods and motions with his hands. The suspense is killing him, but he doesn’t want to directly pressure Keiji. 

“That’s all.” Keiji sets his palms against the ground and begins to move his legs, but Atsumu grabs his knee before he can spring himself upward. 

It’s time for direct pressuring, Atsumu decides. “Keiji, no. You’re not allowed to tell me that you’ve been thinking about something important and then not tell me what’s important. That’s not part of our friendship contract. You have to tell me right this second.” 

“I love you.” 

It is with a raised eyebrow and a tinge of confusion that Atsumu says, “Love you, too?” 

“I love the way you listen to me talk about menial things, and the way your eyebrows knit together whenever you’re pensive, and the way your voice sounds when you’re — all the time — and the way your eyes light up whenever you’re talking about volleyball and sushi, and your unusually specific choice of pens, and you. I love you. A lot, and it makes me very, utterly, tremendously upset that I could quite possibly be ruining the best friendship that I’ve ever had right now, but I really, really want to kiss you.” 

Atsumu stares at Keiji, not blankly, but perhaps Keiji perceives it that way because he starts to get up, apologize about six times, and walk away. 

Oh, shit, he’s walking away.

“Keiji, wait!” Atsumu calls after him to no avail; Keiji walks a little faster, so Atsumu stands up and runs. “Dude, stop! We have to talk!” Now Keiji runs. “And kiss! We have to kiss, too!” Atsumu internally screams a small cheer because his last two sentences seem to have made Keiji stop in his tracks. He even turns around and lets Atsumu catch up to him. 

Keiji’s face is flushed; it’s a completely new look for Keiji, but Atsumu likes it. 

“That’d be cool,” Keiji says. 

“Cool?” Atsumu laughs. 

“Divine?” 

“Yeah, I like that.” Atsumu reaches out, and it’s the first time his hands connect with Keiji for a reason other than helping him up.

Their fingers lace together. 

“This is co— uh, divine.” It’s something that Atsumu can agree with.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading dudes and sorry for any grammatical errors


End file.
